How Not To Fall In Love
by raeubertochter
Summary: It is a truth universally acknowledged, that you never notice how much you miss something, until it is gone. In a similar way, you will never notice how much you might have neglected someone, until someone else starts to look after them.  KakaSaku
1. Prolog

****_When I started this, it didn't want to be written and I never got past the first rule. Now, for some reason, it wanted to and I obliged._

_Unbeta-ed.  
><em>

**How Not To Fall In Love  
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**Prolog**

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that you never notice how much you miss something, until it is gone. In a similar way, you will never notice how much you might have neglected someone, until someone else starts to look after them.

However, in the beginning it was neither of these reasons, but mere curiosity that made Kakashi stop by the training-ground, had him watch as the Fifth Hokage taught his former student the most important skill in combat for a medic. He watched as the ferocious Tsunade taught the small and fragile creature that Sakura still was how to dodge any and every attack aimed at her.

He wanted to leave it at that, leave Sakura to her new teacher. Yet, over the months it grew into a full-fledged habit; when ever the opportunity came his way, Kakashi would check on Sakura's progress. After all, she was the only one of his students left in Konoha. To show some interest was more than justified. Though, admittedly, for him it was never so much about showing as it was about observing.

Which was fine!

If he would ask her how she was doing, she probably would downplay her recent achievements and most definitely be far too polite to tell him, that he had not managed to teach her one single jutsu – or how it was his fault that she had not had the chance to unfold her potential long ago.

Only slowly it dawned on him, that there was another reason that made him, albeit subconsciously, avoid her.


	2. Rule One

**Rule One  
><strong>_Never meet her alone._

It is somewhere between autumn and winter, October – the time of the year in which what ever you decided to wear inevitably proofs to be either too warm or too cold.

When Sakura left home this morning, she had been delighted to discover that, against all odds, her choice of clothes was just about right for the day. It shielded her sufficiently from the nearing winter's cold while allowing her to enjoy the remaining summer's sun at the same time, yet when she entered the Hokage's office, her delight soon turned into disappointment, as the room's radiator rendered half of her carefully chosen layers of cloth unnecessary.

It is early in the afternoon when the Fifth Hokage decides that she has spent enough time of her day cooped up behind a desk, and generously leaves the task of returning all files to their respective shelve or filing box to her new apprentice.

Her new apprentice appreciates this assignment not quite as much as she feels she should – she has never been anywhere near partly classified documents before – but she does not say so. Respect for and fear of her shishou force Sakura to smile and nod and keep up the pretense of enjoying her task as much as one can, until she has the office all to herself.

Even then she does not dare to think about opening one of the files she was entrusted with, or slacking off, though she drops the smile and gradually ceases to handle the documents as if they were raw eggs.

When someone knocks at the door Sakura does not need to force the smile back on her face, for she welcomes this welcome distraction. She notes that her invitation to come in sounds a lot more cheerful than it should, but she does not get a chance to wonder if it exceeds a polite tone, as the door is already opened and reveals the last person she expected.

Not that it is especially unlikely for him to show up at the Hokage's office, yet for some reason, Sakura has not seen anything of him for the past two months. She had almost forgotten about his existence altogether.

"Kaka-sensei"

"Yo"

This very brief dialogue is followed by a brief silence. The next moment Kakashi turns to leave.

"Oi! Aren't you going to at least ask how I'm doing?", Sakura shouts after him.

They have not seen each other since the word "former" made itself at home in front of the word "teacher"; The least he could grant her were a few lines of small talk and a short break from the tedious work her new teacher had burdened her with.

Kakashi stops, though he does not bother to turn around.

"How are you doing?", he repeats the suggested question with all the enthusiasm of a dead fish.

It's not much, Sakura thinks, but it is the beginning of a conversation, no matter how short said conversation might turn out to be. She puts the files she just held in her hands back on the desk and sits down next to them, legs dangling in the air.

"Thank you for asking", she says brightly.

"I'm doing good. Though I do get the feeling, you went a little easy on me – when it was still up to you to train me."

Kakashi shrugs, still offering her nothing but his back.

"You know, some people might call you a sexist for that."

Of course she does not get a reply to that remark either, though Kakashi seems a little more reluctant to leave than he did before.

"By the way, did you come here for any particular reason? I could get a message to Tsunade-sama, when I see her."

"No, it's fine."

And there goes my break, Sakura thinks, and before she can think anything else – like how to appropriately behave around your teacher, former or not – jumps off the desk and takes Kakashi by his hand, pulling him back into the office.

"Alright", she says "I lied. I'm bored to death and I really could do with a little break, and I know you suck at small talk, but maybe you could give it a try?"

He can't. Apparently. Sakura has not yet finished to voice her request, when he has already vanished into thin air.


	3. Rule Two

**Rule Two**

_Avoid Eye Contact._

After their recent encounter, Sakura begins to wonder if her former teacher might avoid her on purpose. She tries to convince herself that this can't be the case, as she never gave him any reason to resent her and reminds herself that, even when he still was her teacher, she barely ever saw him unless it was for professional, educational reasons.

It is March, when they stumble into each other among the bustling streets of Konoha.

"Kaka-sensei!", she sends her greeting past the worn out paperback's cover that hides most of his mostly covered face.

She can't help but grimace in annoyance, when all the reply she gets is some noise that supposedly is meant to signal the acknowledgment of her presence, though it might as well signal that any interruption in reading is less than appreciated.

Yet she decides to accompany him, should he really prefer to be left alone she has no doubt that he would have disappeared by now anyway.

When they pass Ichiraku, Sakura stops. To her surprise Kakashi does the same. He lowers his book and looks past her at the restaurant, and for brief moment he seems far less aloof than usually. It is then, that Sakura has an idea.

She tugs at Kakashi's sleeve to get him to look at her, but his eye remains glued to the shop's sign.

She tugs a little more insisting. She realises how inappropriate her behaviour must seem, but after some more tugging she finally gets her wish and Kakashi's head to turn in her direction.

_He's going to kill me,_ she thinks, and decides that the best tactic is to mask her fear with the brightest smile she can muster.

"Would you like to invite me for dinner?", she beams, "For old-time's sake."

_He is not going to kill me,_ Sakura thinks, but there is something in his eye, something not even his well faked halfmoon-smile can disguise. What it is, she does not quite know, but it causes a weird tingling sensation under her scalp, a pleasant numbness that washes from her eyes down her face and makes her feel dazed.

No one has ever looked at her like that before and Sakura is unsure whether she finds it confusing or profoundly unsettling or something else entirely.

Kakashi does not give her the time to determine her feelings though. After a mere second (which – to Sakura – seems to stretch endlessly), the orange paperback is back in its place and blocking Sakura's view.

"Okay", he says. He does not wait for her as he makes his way across the street, brushes past the letter _me_ and takes his seat. He is still staring at his book, though Sakura notes that it has been quite some time since he last turned a page.

Part of her always assumed that he never actually read, that he carried those filthy novels with him solely to emphasize how little he cared for his surroundings, maybe even as means of provocation. She wouldn't put it past his odd sense of humor.

Part of her had always hoped this assumption to be true. Because it would make him less of a pervert.

That part of her gives a triumphant cheer, if only inside of her head.

He keeps hidden behind his book while he eats, thus denies Sakura the chance to get a glimpse of his face. Not that it matters. Sakura smirks.

In a few weeks she'd begin to work at the hospital.

Her smirk widens as she tries to imagine Naruto's reaction, when she will tell him that she was able to peek behind Kakashi-sensei's mask. The smirk loses some of its complacency when she thinks that she much rather would tell Sasuke; she is sure that – even if he'd never admit it – he would be impressed.

"Sakura", she gets startled out of her thoughts by Kakashi's voice.

"How old are you?"

This is an odd question, especially coming from someone who has been her teacher, instructor, team-leader for two years.

It also confirms her suspicion that Kakashi had never taken much interest in his least impressive student.

"I'm turning fourteen next week", she tells him and can't stop herself from adding that he would know this, if he had ever paid any attention to her.

Kakashi ignores her remark. He peers at her over the rim of his book, and Sakura quickly lowers her gaze to stare at the half-full bowl of ramen in front of her instead.

Suddenly she doesn't want to have dinner with Kakashi anymore. Kakashi, who either ignores her or asks her questions to which he should obviously _know_ the answers.

"I'm sorry", she says, still staring at her noodles. She places her disposable chopsticks back in their paper-wrap.

"I completely forgot: My mom's cooking dinner tonight." 

She gets up.

"I better hurry", she says, and then, because she feels like it:

"_I hate letting others wait."_


	4. Rule Three

**Rule Three**

_Never show her affection._

It is the twenty eighth of March and Sakura does not feel remotely different when she wakes up. This is a little disappointing. Turning fourteen, she had believed, would be something special.

So far there is nothing special. Outside it is grey and rainy and all together unfriendly looking, and the lack of odors that rise up through the floorboards from downstairs suggest that not even today her mother could find the time to prepare breakfast.

Sakura gets dressed, braces herself for the worst birthday in her whole life and makes her way downstairs.

The kitchen is empty, but there is something on the table. A small cake – dark black chocolate, covered with white and pink icing. It tastes delicious.

Sakura smiles. So maybe her mother had not found the time to cook her breakfast. Maybe she had to leave for work before Sakura even woke up.

The cake more than makes up for it.

There are also two letters waiting. A big one, her address smeared across it in Naruto's scrawly writing, and a small one with nothing written on it at all.

She opens Naruto's envelope first, stares at the impossibly colourful greeting-card. She almost drops it, when – upon being opened – a loud and screechy voice starts to sing a birthday-song.

Sakura immediately shuts it again and reaches deeper inside the envelope. (Not because she is greedy, but because it is far too big for only one greeting-card.)

Her fingers catch hold of something soft.

Sakura grimaces. She half expects to find a negligee or underwear in her hand as she withdraws it (who knows what Jiraiya-sama's influence has done to Naruto?), but instead she looks down at a rolled up, dark red piece of fabric.

She unfolds it and her eyes widen in surprise. It's a forehead protector. 

She tries to bend the metal-plate, it seems solid. She lets the fabric run through her fingers. It feels soft and silky and sturdy at the same time. It feels expensive.

Sakura shakes her head, thinking how Naruto really is the most unpredictable person she knows. Who would have thought, that he could manage to get her a present that was both tasteful and practical?

She picks up the second envelope, searches the paper for anything that would give the sender away, but can't find the tiniest clue.

She opens it, cautiously and finds another greeting-card, turns it around to read what's written there.

Nothing.

So instead Sakura takes a closer look at the image.

A landscape, delicately painted in ink. It's beautiful, Sakura thinks, if a little dark. There's a three-quarter moon in a starry sky that casts its light on a field, rimmed by stream on one, a fence on the other side, and – not surprisingly – there is a cherry-tree.

In fourteen years, Sakura has received more images of cherry-trees than she can count. Blooming and blossoming and scattering their petals with the wind.

There is something distinguishably different about this cherry-tree.

It isn't in bloom. If Sakura squints, she can make out flower buds covering the bare branches, but there's not a single blossom.

At first this confuses her, the something that is missing. That lingering, longing sadness.

Sakura never liked sad things much. But the longer she stares at the image in her hand, the more she can see how this particular kind of sadness is a very beautiful one.

She does not need to wonder any more, who sent her the card. It seems obvious to her; of course, it must be him – because, really, is there anybody else?

Leaving her cake and the forehead protector behind, she heads for the door, clutches the card to her chest.

_Ino needs to see this._


	5. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

On the eve of the twenty eighth of March, by the time he arrived at home, Kakashi had as good as convinced himself, that he most certainly had not just succumbed to the sentimental notion of buying and (what was worse) actually delivering a birthday-card to Sakura.

A card so glutted with unsubtle symbolism, that Kakashi had to question both, his taste and his sanity.

By the time he leaves for the training-ground the next morning, he has almost completely forgotten about it. At this time of the day it is easy to leave unwanted worries and thoughts with the damp towels tossed aside after his morning-shower.

And then he sees her. Or more precisely, he smells her; The wind carries her scent down the street long before her feet let her follow. Kakashi can almost taste her happiness and excitement.

He stops, cold.

It's like that fragment of a second in which you realise that you just ran straight into your enemy's trap.

It can't be that she understands what he meant, intended to tell her. He is sure of that, was sure of it – otherwise he would have never, never dared to send her that message.

He has not yet decided whether to let her confront him, or rather blend in with his surroundings, disappear, to hope that his duties will keep him away from this, his, her village for as long as forever, when she hurries past him, pushes him aside with little to no respect or consideration.

She then turns around. Her eyes sparkle and her cheeks are flushed and it is a good thing that by now she is standing downwind from Kakashi, because her pheromones are running wild.

"Kaka-sensei!", she waves. She is clutching something in her other hand, and with a shock greater than he would have anticipated, Kakashi realises that it is the same greeting-card he chose for her the day before.

"You won't believe what happened", she says, her voice giddy and girlish.

Kakashi tilts his head to communicate to her, that in deed, he probably won't, but is willing to hear it anyway.

"Sasuke wrote me!"

Kakashi blinks. He tries to think of any reaction appropriate, while at the same time, but with a different part of his mind, he tries to figure out what his own, natural reaction might be.

"Although, he didn't exactly write..."

He doesn't feel hurt. He always knew that Sakura had given her heart away – completely – and that will be a very long time, until she might find it again.

"...he send me this card..."

He feels relief, in a way, but at the same time -

"...I mean, it could be from anyone, but I know..."

- he feels terribly guilty.

"I know that it's from him! I just know it!"

As far as Kakashi can tell, he hasn't shown any reaction the news Sakura brought her, so far. He has exceeded the time-frame during which any reaction might have appeared natural.

Sakura notices this as well.

"You don't believe me, do you?", she says.

Kakashi takes one step in her directions. His hand finds her shoulder.

"I'm sorry", he says, hesitates, unable to find the right words to explain himself.

"I'm sorry", he repeats. The solemn tone, which he cannot quite keep out of his voice, tears at the bright smile playing on Sakura's face.

"I'm sorry that I forgot about your birthday."

Suddenly Sakura is laughing. She wraps her arms around him, before there is anything he can do.

"I never expected you to remember it", she says.

It is then, while he awkwardly returns her embrace, his fingertips brush against her hair while he tries to figure out which part of her shoulders, her back, is appropriate for him to touch and which is not, that Kakashi knows how lost he is.

Because he isn't, never was, attracted to a fourteen year old girl (there was a time, when this idea had him worried), but it is Sakura, who has no idea yet who she actually is, can be – who is only just beginning to gather the confidence that will eventually allow her to be herself. It is this Sakura, to whom he has lost his heart.


End file.
